He's Not That Kind of Guy
by StartingWithSugar
Summary: It didn't hurt seeing her with someone else./GaLe, One-shot.


**It's been a while. Sorry I've lost track of my other stories. Enjoy this, anyway.**

* * *

It didn't hurt seeing her with someone else.

Why would it? It's not like he should give a damn what she does anymore. Or who, for that matter, although from the way her new accessory looked, he doubted anything they did came remotely close to what _they_ used to do.

Besides, he doesn't have those kinds of feelings anyway. When it's over, it's over, who cares. He certainly didn't. The fact that he was always leaving the bar the second she and her damn purse came in was strictly coincidental, and it definitely had nothing to do with the fact that he could recognize her voice from outside before she even walked in.

Because that would be weird and strangely romantic and he is _not _romantic, especially towards a girl he was no longer involved with.

Because it didn't matter to him what she did anymore.

It didn't matter when everyone went to the beach that July, and she had on a new belly button ring that he hadn't given her. It was interesting, maybe, that she had continued wearing them considering the circumstance in which she got it, but only because girls tended to give emotions to certain material things and it just seemed like a belly button piercing that he had literally given her with his teeth would bring up unwanted memories.

Interesting, perhaps. But not painful.

He didn't notice when she glanced at him while she talked, even if she was all the way across the room and telling a story about something that happened to her and her toy. He didn't notice that the stories sounded damn boring compared to what she and him used to do (not that he was listening).

He didn't notice the way she never smiled with her eyes until blondie brought up something they had all done together, and he didn't note that she only laughed that airy laugh of hers when someone mentioned an inside joke from a year or two ago.

It didn't hurt when he heard her laugh like that one day to something her dog said, or when her eyes crinkled and she moved her hand to cover her giggling mouth. It didn't hurt to watch someone else make her giggle. He didn't care, really.

He didn't want to rip off her object's hands when he put them on her waist, because that wasn't _his _place anymore. He couldn't even remember how well his large hands fit there, or how soft her skin was when she wore a shirt that didn't quite cover her mid-drift.

It didn't matter when she leaned against him in the guild hall, and he buried her nose in his hair. He didn't think about how only he could fully appreciate the strawberry smell of her hair because of his heightened sense of smell. And he definitely didn't smirk when he remembered the days her hair smelt of iron when she'd showered at his house (or, technically speaking, when _they'd_ showered at his house).

He didn't overhear her tell blondie that she was planning on breaking it off with her toy. It didn't make him feel strangely relieved. He also didn't subtly ask Salamander if his bunny girlfriend had told him anything about her reasons, and he didn't laugh out loud when Salamander had replied "something about inadequacy."

He didn't leave the guild the day she walked in alone merely on coincidence, and he was in a good mood that day only because of the recent mission he'd been on. He was surprised when she nodded a greeting towards him in the most objective way possible, because why would he be happy about something ridiculous like that?

He wasn't listening to her and Blondie's conversations again when he heard her say that she'd never actually changed the picture frames, just thrown them in a box. He didn't kind of hope she meant change them from a time when they had been a _they _and he didn't wonder why she'd kept them.

He wasn't weirdly nervous about plopping down next to her one day, because he didn't care that this had been the closest they'd sat since then. It wasn't difficult to act casual about it because he was casual. He didn't notice how normal and _right_ it felt as they all sat around the bench they'd always sat around, because he hadn't noticed how abnormal it had felt when he wasn't sitting next to her.

He didn't notice her wearing more cropped shirts. What the hell is a cropped shirt anyway? He didn't know, because he'd only bought her one because it looked like something she'd wear. Yes, he'd only bought her one. He didn't remember the day he'd bought the one she was wearing, nor did he remember when he'd bought her the belly button ring she was showing off with it.

And it didn't make him smirk when he noticed it was the dragon one, because he didn't notice that.

He sounded totally and completely cool when he confidently announced his apology to her, and he didn't have to make an effort to hold himself back from wiping the tears off as they rolled down her cheek. He was able to stop himself from closing the distance between them and pulling her up into a kiss, and therefore didn't smile against her when he realized she was wearing that minty chapstick Blondie had bought her one year for her birthday. He didn't briefly consider if her dog had ever tasted the chapstick, because it didn't matter.

He made the responsible decision and realized that he'd only hurt her the first time, and trying again was absolutely and totally ridiculous. Once it's over, it's over. He didn't care to win girls back.

That's why his hand comfortably resting on her waist again wasn't why he was himself again. He was never not himself, why would now be different? She didn't laugh more now then she had been in the last few months. He didn't relish in reducing her to giggles or blushes anymore then he used to, because he hadn't desperately missed it when he couldn't.

He didn't grin when she'd commented that she missed his cluttered house, and he didn't feel strangely accomplished when she crinkled her nose and remembered her discarded accessory's "disturbingly puritanical home".

He wasn't relieved when she'd said she had never done anything with her ex-toy because she had never been that comfortable with him, and he didn't find it hot when she was nervous about her long period of 'lock down'. He wasn't satisfied that he could still make her scream like he did because he hadn't missed her curves or her soft skin.

He didn't notice that her hair smelled like iron the next day, but he was, admittedly, proud of it.

On her end, as she had been telling Lu-chan, she had realized being friends was not working and had tried to move on, and when that failed (as well as being 'just friends' had failed), was just glad to have normal back.


End file.
